


Kisses

by marizousbooty



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 500-1000 each (a couple are longer because im That Extra Bitch), Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, duq made me do it, kiss prompts, many many kisses, theres a few but im down to do more prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-01 09:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marizousbooty/pseuds/marizousbooty
Summary: Tumblr kiss prompts with klance. Each one is a standalone.





	1. 39... because time's run out

**Author's Note:**

> http://canadiangothstalker.tumblr.com/post/178679098373/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-i-will-write-a  
> here's the kiss meme and if you want me to do more ill gladly do it I've been working my ass off on these halloween projects and they're a nice reprieve. none of these are beta'd so they kind of suck. short and sweer? maybe  
> everythings in order from how ive recieved them. might do a few in my spare time just cause i wanna without prompt theyre nice and sweet.  
> \---  
> ambiguous/open ending, i did write a happy ending but i didnt like how it interrupted the flow so its been deleted, up for interpretation but id like to think theyre fine

Lance’s head broke the surface first. His helmet received a hit to the visor during the fall, a hairline crack ran through the tempered glass and let water in to slosh around the helmet. Useless to him, he tugged it off and tossed it away, gasping for air. It bobbed on the surface next to him.

“Keith?!” He called and doggy paddled around in a circle, frantically searching for a blob of red.

Keith popped up a few feet away, coughing and spluttering with his hair plastered to his face. “Right here!” He called hoarsely. Lance swam over and pulled him close, using his legs to keep them afloat. Keith wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist and pressed his cheek to Lance’s. Their skin was cold, breathing ragged and echoed in the tiny, metal chamber they’d fallen into.

“I’m okay, are you hurt?” Keith asked. Lance shook his head. “Good. We need to figure out how to get out of here.”

“Where’s your helmet?” Lance pulled back and pushed the soaked hair from Keith’s eyes. He blinked, able to see properly now.

“Lost in the fall. Where’s yours?” 

“Cracked visor. Comms are down. The others saw us fall, right?”

Keith nodded.  “Pretty sure.”

They looked up at their point of entry, a grate some yards above their heads that was the entrance to a complex pipe system that made up this planet’s freshwater transport. At least it was filter water they’d fallen into. The grate was steadily letting more water in, the tank filling slowly. 

“Our suits have trackers, they’ll find us soon,” Lance reasoned. His teeth were chattering from the cold water.

“The water level is rising,” Keith pointed out. “It won’t be long until the tank fills and we drown.”

Lance gulped. “They’ll find us soon.”

Keith squeezed Lance’s waist, pulled him in closer. They’re legs kicked in sync, keeping them shoulders above the water. They could only watch as the cold tank filled with even colder water, the ceiling coming closer to their heads- faster than they would have liked. The walls were completely smooth, and Lance had swam down to check the floor and corners for any sort of lock or secret bath plug to let them out. 

Keith was breathing rapidly into Lance’s neck, his hands shook and held on to Lance for dear life. “We’re not gonna make it out of here.” The ceiling now brushed the tops of their heads, pushing the water level to their necks.

“Shh, don’t say that,” Lance tried. He couldn’t keep the tremor from his voice. Their legs were sore, lungs ached from the cold air. Lance could see the veins on Keith’s pale cheeks, close to the surface in an attempt to keep him warm. 

“Hey Lance?” Keith pulled back,  his eyes wet with unshed tears, lips blue with cold. “I love you a lot, love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you, too.” Lance’s voice cracked at the end, a hot tear spilled down his numb cheek. The water had pushed them up, heads facing skyward and noses pressed to the ceiling. “God I love you, and I’m sorry-”

“Shut up, we’re about to die. Just kiss me, you fool.” Keith’s voice cracked as they were dragged underwater with their last breath.

Through the blur of the water, Lance could make out Keith’s black hair swirling around his pale face like a dark cloud, the muted red and white of his armor like a beacon in the haze. Keith reached out and pulled Lance into a searing, final kiss. They kissed, closed mouth and hearts racing, like it was their last. It was their last, they firmly believed. They pulled each other close and kissed away the last of their oxygen. 

Black splotches filled Lance’s vision, lungs burned from more oxygen, more air, more Keith. He kissed Keith until he was too weak to do so, dizzy like it was their first kiss all over again. The black fog traced the edges of his vision. 

The last thing he saw was Keith, floating away from him, their hands hooked together by the barest tips of their fingers. He tried to grip Keith’s hand one last time, tried to frame Keith’s face, lax and unnaturally pale in the cold water. He went numb, then didn’t feel anything but himself floating away. 


	2. 5...where it doesn't hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mild gore, character injury, soft boys

“Lance,  _ Lance  _ it’s okay, it’s okay,” Keith chanted like a mantra. “Where does it hurt? Baby please, take a deep breath.”

“You- you take a deep breath,” Lance hissed between his teeth. He writhed on the ground. His left shoulder was torn to shreds, armor burned away and blacked at the edges. Keith couldn’t bear to look at the mottled, red flesh. It didn’t even bleed.

“My leg,” Lance gasped out. “My leg, I think it’s broken.” He could barely form coherent sentences, the words mashed and twisted around his pained cries. Keith knelt by Lance’s good side, keeping his eyes on Lance’s face. Blood was clotting on his forehead, in his hair. It dripped down from his brow and made his cheek sticky. 

The blast had knocked Lance back and caught his shoulder while shielding Keith, they had tumbled down a rocky ledge and Keith was relatively fine in the face of Lance’s third degree burn. He was dizzy, probably had a concussion due to the vertigo and double vision, but the glazed red of Lance’s skin that worked up his neck to the bottom of his jaw put Keith’s probably not that serious concussion on the backburner. He writhed on the ground, coughing and groaning in pain. It must be like his skin was still on fire. His good hand hovering over the burns shakily as if something compelled him to touch it, but the fiery burn held his hand aloft. 

“Team, do you copy?” Keith called into the comms. 

A static reply of “Copy!” came from Allura.

“Lance and I have been hit, but he’s in critical condition. We need an airlift back and get him to a pod now.” He could barely keep the shaking from his voice. He grabbed Lance’s good hand, stopping him from scraping the hard glove of his suit over the tender wound. Lance choked and gasped, fingers squeezing him tight. He received and affirmative and given about a few dobashes before she will show.

“Lance, can you hear me? Stay with me,” Keith said, he squeezed Lance’s shaking hand back, pulling it to his lips to leave kisses on his knuckles. “Focus on my voice.”

“‘M here, ‘m here you.” Lance’s voice was barely a whisper. The jerking motions slowed to the occasional twitch. His left leg was completely immobile. 

“You saved met,” Keith said harshly. He felt angry bile rise in his throat, but his nerves were so fired up he couldn’t bring himself to spew it all out. “I’m so mad at you, and I’m gonna chew you out for it when you get out of the pod.”

Lance blinked hazily at him and gave the barest nod. He said something, but his words were so garbled and weak they wouldn’t make it past Lance’s lips. 

“What was that?” Keith leaned in to catch his words.

“Kiss me a ‘lil bit,” he said again, voice a bit stronger. His chest heaved at the effort. 

He placed the softest kiss on Lance’s lips, careful not to lean into his injury. His lips were cool to the touch, and rough with dirt. They were shivering under Keith’s. He placed a trail of kisses down the good side of his jaw, and leaned back on his heels to place more kisses on the hand he squeezed between his own. Lance was staring at him, hazy eyed and the smallest smile on his lips.

“Your healing touch has cured me, thank you,” Lance slurred. Lance’s breathing wasn’t as labored anymore. He’d calmed down, but was getting more sluggish by the second. 

Keith chuckled. “You still have a gigantic burn on your shoulder, you dingus.”

“Kiss it better?” 

Keith feigned leaning in to kiss the large burn, eyes on Lance’s face so he wouldn’t have to look at the pus-oozing wound. 

Lance laughed and groaned, “I was kidding, God don’t touch me.” Keith placed another long kiss on Lance’s knuckle and pressed the blue of his gauntlet to his cheek

Allura arrived in Blue a moment later. Keith and her delicately lifted Lance from the dirty ground and loaded him up into Blue, Lance’s head on Keith’s lap and good hand gripped in his. 

Keith gave him the most tender kiss just as Lance was hoisted up into the healing pod.

“That sucked. Give me a better one when I get out?”

Keith laughed. “Of course.”

The glass sealed him in and foze Lance over in a flash of light and cold. When he emerged three days later, Keith body slammed him into the ground and gave him the biggest, wettest kiss he could muster. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> main tumblr: canadiangothstalker  
> art tumblr: mirai-eats  
> twitter: mirai_eats


	3. 13...discreetly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get a little steamy, NOT ALL OF THEM ARE SAD, pidge is here but not like That

No one knew. And no one needed to know. The team worked delicately after Shiro’s disappearance, the atmosphere tense and like nothing would fit right. 

That’s how Lance and Keith fell into each other. Everything felt so wrong, but they found a semblance of right together. It was tepid ground they walked on, unsure of what their future holds and only what they could do in the moment. The team didn’t need to know yet until they figured themselves out first. 

It was a little intimidating, a little refreshing. For the both of them. Keith has never seriously dated before, and Lance had only dated girls. They needed to test the water a bit before they could outright put a label on anything. 

They had awkwardly confessed after Lance had stumbled out of a healing pod a few weeks ago. Well, Keith had shouted his feelings at Lance and Lance gave him a timid kiss on the cheek in response. Keith had figured he didn’t want to risk losing Lance again without him at least knowing how he felt. It was a miracle Lance felt the same way. 

He’s still shocked, weeks later and the timid toe dip had turned into a nervous shuffle from the pool steps into the shallow end, tummy clenched with the shock of it all. They would hold hands under the table, cuddle at night and fall asleep whispering softly to one another, pull each other into closets and shadowy corners to kiss the other passionately. 

Like now, a couple hours after lights off and the castle activity was set to a low hum. Keith had Lance pressed against the cold metal, elbows bracketing his head and neck craned up the tiniest bit to devour Lance’s soft mouth. The shadow of the alcove had them mostly hidden, thrusting them into a cool darkness that Keith could barely make out the shape of Lance’s face in. It was enough, to trace his lips with his own was all he needed. 

Lance’s hand rove up and down his sides, fingers trailing fire across his skin and sent a shiver goosebumps where he last touched. 

It was deep, heavy. Feeling Lance’s tongue in his mouth, his knee propped up on Keith’s hip, a gently roll of his hips. There was no demand for anything from Keith, just the plead for their bodies to stay like this. Slowly, Keith kissed down Lance’s long neck. He tipped his head back with a soft gasp that sent a shudder down his spine. 

“How the fuck are you so soft?” Keith murmured into Lance’s column of a neck. 

“I moisturize, drown myself in it.” Lance whispered. The castle was asleep, but the moment refused to let them raise their voices. It would break the spell over them. 

Keith grunted and moved his hands to hold Lance’s hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the bare skin his hiked up shirt revealed. Lance groaned into the open air. 

“Shh,” Keith hushed and brought his lips back to Lance’s, a hickey blooming on his brown neck tucked just slightly under the collar. “Pidge could still be awake.” 

“Pidge is in her lab,” Lance whispered. He didn’t let Keith respond, only sealed their lips together into a hot, open mouthed kiss. 

“Pidge is right here.” A new voice intervened.

The two snapped apart and whipped around to the sound of Pidge’s voice. She stood at the end of the hall, laptop under her arm and heavy bags under her eyes. She had an expression that flickered between amused and exasperated.

“Pidge I-”

“We were-”

“You know how it is-”

“Uh-”

“Stop.” She held up her hand. They shut their stammering mouths, flushed in the face. “You two do your thing, whatever it is, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything until you want me to say something. Capiche?”

They nodded stiffly. 

“Cool. I’m going to bed.” She walked passed them, they didn’t move a muscle. She stopped at the end of the hall and tilted her head toward them, glasses glinted ominously under the dim light. “Don’t try and pull any shit on me, you hear? Or the whole castle will know you two suck face in the hall like a couple of high schoolers.”

“Technically I’m-” Lance was cut off with a firm elbow to his side.

“Don’t worry, just keep it to yourself and we won’t have to explain to Allura what happened last week when the castle’s thrusters were down for some reason,” Keith said snidely.

Pidge narrowed her eyes and stomped off.

“Dude, that was hot how you blackmailed Pidge like that,” Lance said. “Can we make out some more?”

“Yeah but-get your hand off my butt for a second- take it to the bedroom. I don’t want Coran finding us next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> main tumblr: canadiangothstalker  
> art tumblr: mirai-eats  
> twitter: mirai_eats


	4. 31... after a small rejection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> modern au, it got really soft suddenly, i could only write so much angst before i cave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a weak baby!

Keith slammed his laptop shut and shoved it off his lap. Lance jumped from his spot on the floor and twisted to look up at Keith, eyebrows drawn into a furrow. 

“Hey what’s wrong?” asked Lance with a note of concern.

A pause. “I didn’t get in.”

Lance sat up straight. “What? Get into where?”

“Santa Barbara.” Keith slumped back against his bed and rolled away from Lance.

“Oh, baby.” Lance climbed into the bed and pulled his body into him. “I’m so sorry. They’re a bunch of idiots up in Norcal.”

“Santa Clara didn’t accept me either,” Keith croaked. He buried his head into his pillow, refusing to let Lance see his tears. Lance sat up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and stroked his hair idly. “If Berkley doesn’t take me, then I  _ have  _ to go to USC.”

“They’re missing out on the best student they could ever have rejecting you, those assholes,” Lance said. “Hey, look on the bright side! If you go to USC you’ll be closer to me in San Diego.”

“If I was gonna be rejected like this, I would have just sent applications to San Diego so I could at least be with you,” Keith said softly, muffled by the pillow in his face.

“No, don’t say that,” Lance huffed. “I’d rather you go to some far away school in like, New York or something and get the best education for your master’s around, than stick around San Diego with me.”

“But I’d rather be with you than get a good education.”

Lance lightly smacked his bare arm. “Shut the fuck up, you don’t mean that.”

Keith rolled over suddenly, pushing Lance under him and sitting up. “I  _ do  _ mean that.” He glared down at Lance. “I want to be with you for a long-ass time. If I don’t get my master’s, that’s okay as long as I have you with me.”

A thick silence followed Keith’s statement. Lance opened and shut his mouth like a dying fish, grasping for air and words. He settled his expression into a deep frown, but a deeper blush was hot on his cheeks. “That is the dumbest thing you have ever said to me, Keith. I love you so, so much, but I will actually kill you if you throw away your future to bum around San Diego.”

“I’ll get a job or something,” Keith practically growled. “I’ll take a semester off and work, save money, and join you in the spring.”

“As sweet and wonderful as that sounds, where do you really want to go?” Lance asked.

Keith paused. “The best school would be Stanford, but I can’t get in there. My scores aren't that good. But…”

“But?”

“University of Chicago would be cool,” Keith said hesitantly. “It’s like, top ten in the country for my major, and USC is only like number fourteen.”

“Go to Chicago, forget about me. I’m gonna be ditching California as soon as I’m done with my master’s for Florida to get a PhD.”

Keith rolled off the bed and stumbled away. He turned to face Lance, a fire in his eyes. “You’re going to  _ Florida?  _ How long will that take?!”

Lance sat up and shrugged. “Like, six years probably. A lot of field work and junk, you know?”

“But what the heck’s in Florida you can’t get in California?”

Lance shrugged again. “Manatees.”

Keith softened, his posture drooped. “I’m tired, Lance. I don’t want to be an adult anymore.” He stepped forward and plopped himself down into Lance’s lap with a heavy sigh. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith and pulled him back down to the bed. They took a moment to lay like that, Keith tracing indicerned patterns into Lance’s arm, the balls of the worn pullover getting caught on his nail. “I can’t stand the idea of being away from you, but it’s going to happen one way or another.”

“Then let’s make every moment from now on count, okay?” Lance rubbed circles into Keith’s back and placed a gently kiss on top of his head.

Keith pulled back slightly and gave Lance a firm kiss on the lips. Lance kissed back, slow and soft. It only lasted a moment, but it was so gentle and sweet, bathed in rich honey.

“Hey, Lance?” Keith asked against his soft lips. Lance hummed in response. “Let’s get married once we get our loans paid off.”

Lance jerked his head back, eyes wide. “What?” He squeaked.

“Let’s get married,” Keith repeated.

“Are-is this like, an official proposal?” Lance stuttered out, face hot. “I’m in sweats, and I haven’t washed my hair in two days. Don’t- what?”

Keith sat up, pulling Lance with him. “It’s not official, I don’t-I don’t have a ring for you. But I would like to, yeah. I love you a lot and I want to stay with you. Can I at least promise  to marry you?”

“Keith, that-that won’t be for another seven years at least, we’ll be in our thirties and getting kind of gross and be focused on jobs and getting eye wrinkles.” Lance was a blubbering mess, tears pooling in his eyes and dripping down his sharp cheeks. Keith reached up and cupped Lance’s face, brushing his tears away with his thumb.

“I know, and I want that.” Keith felt his own eyes burn. His chest was so hot, so light and pumped with helium. “You can go to school and I can work and start saving for the biggest wedding ever and we can get a house in whatever state we decide to live in afterward, get tax breaks because we’re married and adopt a couple cats and a dog.”

“A kid, too?”

“As many kids as you want.”

“Don’t say that, I’ll adopt a whole orphanage,” Lance laughed, the bubbly sound cracked, but elated.

“And I want to be with you, when we’re gross with eye wrinkles and too much time with our jobs ‘cause we gotta save for retirement so we can go on an Alaskan cruise and hikes through Europe.” Keith was crying now too, but he’d never been so in love and so hopeful before. “I love you Lance, and I promise to get you a ring and do a proper proposal once we get that new raise.”

Lance nodded, lip quivering and smile so bright he couldn’t speak through his tears. He threw his arms around Keith and pulled him into another kiss, a hard press of their lips that Keith sank into. 

A little while later, laptop and textbooks long forgotten, they laid cuddling on their sides.

“What are you looking at?” Lance murmured, trying to look over his shoulder at Keith’s phone screen.

“Wedding bands on Amazon. This one’s like, six bucks.”

“Mr. Kogane that is  _ not  _ a wedding ring!” Lance squaked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> main tumblr: canadiangothstalker  
> art tumblr: mirai-eats  
> twitter: mirai_eats


	5. 20...on a scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theyre getting longer, its also v soft

Lance found Keith atop the Black Lion. He’d let him in throw his huge maw, and Lance climbed through the hatch to where Keith sat cross legged between the giant ears. 

“Hey, man,” Lance said.

Keith turned to see Lance climbing out and nodded. “Hey.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Keith shrugged and turned back to face the cosmos above. Lance plopped down next to him with a sigh. They were resting on a desolate planet with little to no vegetation, and a weak level of oxygen. It was enough to sustain them and get a breath of fresh air, but it felt like they were walking on the tops of mountains back on Earth with how thin the air was. 

They haven’t talked since Keith got back with his mom, a new dog, and a new look and after Shiro was pulled from the astral plane and brought back to life through the clone that tried to kill Keith specifically, then lost the castle as it was compressed into a glittering crystal, the shadow of its former glory hidden in its facets. Now, as they puttered through the universe toward Earth; it was like a road trip except everyone was the driver and there was no fun playlist to backtrack their adventure. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you when we arrived,” Keith suddenly broke the stillness between them. It took Lance a second to remember what he was talking about. It wasn’t long ago, Keith’s return to the castle with his rugged new look and mom and dog and Lotor’s secrets in tow, but so much has happened it seemed like weeks ago. Better late than never, he guessed.

“It’s fine. It was a high stress situation and you didn’t need my ass in the way,” Lance said. He wouldn’t look at Keith, but kept his eyes on the pale dirt of the star-lit horizon. Three moons illuminated the sky, where no light pollution could block the trillions of galaxies above them. 

“But I didn’t need to be an ass. Lance, I-” Keith cut off and swallowed, hard. Keith’s hand bumped Lance’s that was lying by his side. “I up and left you with barely a word, and the Blade missions, then I was gone for two whole years, and then-”

“It was only like two weeks, but yeah I could see how that would mess with you.” Lance wouldn’t dare look at Keith now. He knows what’s coming. For a moment, Lance pretended they were still together, still boyfriends. A tender love made in a violent war in hopes of softening the hurt, of soothing the aches that ran bone deep while the universe rested on their weary shoulders. It was going to be crushed and blown away with a few words from Keith. And there was nothing Lance could do to stop it.

“I’m sorry, Lance, I’m so fucking sorry.” Keith’s voice cracked. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

Lance braced himself. He was ready for it to all be over. He withdrew his hand, not wanting to feel the burn of the cold, the ice of Keith’s rejection. He’s grown, he understands. It’s been two years and Keith’s had time to grow out of his feelings. He steeled himself to let go.

“If you want to break off what we have, I’d understand completely. I’ve had a  _ lot  _ of time to think about us over the past two years, and I’d majorly fucked it all up. Lance, I-” Keith swallowed and shifted next to Lance, his breath ragged in Lance’s ears. He sounded close to a break down. “There’s so much out there in the universe, and I can do nothing to stop you from finding someone worth your time, someone who could treat you right. I was an absolute ass to you, when you were probably concerned over my absence- which you shouldn’t have because I don’t deserve that- and I disregarded how you felt and I kept doing it over and over. Lance.” He stopped. “Look at me, please?”

Lance hiccuped and slowly peeled his eyes from the bleached, star-strewn horizon to Keith’s watery eyes, which widened a fraction at Lance’s own. “Why are you crying?” Keith asked in a hushed whisper.

“Why are you crying?” Lance choked out.

“Aren’t you going to break up with me?”

Lance shook his head. “Weren’t you breaking up with  _ me?” _

“Why would I break up with you?!” Keith’s voice reached a cracking octave, one Lance hasn’t heard in what’s felt like years.

“I don’t want to break up with you!” Lance was no better, he was practically screaming. The rest down at the camp below could probably hear them.

“Then don’t break up with me, stupid!”

“Only if you stop being an idiot and making decisions for us and just talk to me about your feelings,  _ idiota!”  _

Keith’s lower lip trembled, filling Lance with a sharp-tasting regret. It was drowned by bittersweetness when Keith threw his arms around Lance and stifled a sob into his shoulder.

“You- when did you become so in touch with your feelings?” Lance gently wrapped his arms around Keith and pulled him closer.

The question was left unanswered, but Lance figured out the answer himself. He’s grown, and it made Lance’s chest hurt. In a good way. He buried his face into Keith’s unruly hair and took in a deep, shuddering breath. 

After a while of gentle sobbing, they pulled back; not too far back, though, keeping their arms around each other and face close enough to drink in every detail they’ve missed whether it was two weeks or two years. 

“You’re jaws more prominent,” Lance whispered, not wanting to shatter the delicate moment. “And your hair isn’t so ugly once it grew out the little fluffy duck-tail you called a mullet.”

“You were the only one who called it a mullet,” Keith huffed, a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“And your eyes are more narrow, kind of lost its boyish charm. It’s a manly charm now,” Lance continued. “Your voice is a little deeper, and your hands are bigger. How old are you? Like, twenty?”

“Yeah, probably,” Keith sighed. “Am I too old and gross for you now?”

Lance hummed. He stroked a gloved finger across the strong jawline, brushed a thumb over this thick brows furrowed in concern. The sharp mark, a burn from his last major fight, was pink and raw against his skin. It’s going to heal and look like his mom’s own purple marks. Lance leaned forward, a little hesitant. Keith didn’t draw back.

Lance placed the softest kiss upon the pink scar, the barest brush of a kiss that Keith could pull back from. He didn’t. 

A heavy sigh left Keith’s lips, blew past the curls of hair around Lance’s ear. Keith tightened his hold around Lance and drew him in against his side. A gentle, tentative kiss was placed on the side of Lance’s head. 

“Can we start fresh? When we get back Earth, I can take you on a real date?” Keith asked, a soft nervousness to his tone.

“Only if you’re buying.”

Keith chuckled. “Only if you show up.”

Lance smiled and kissed another, more firm, kiss to the pink mark on Keith’s cheek. “I’ll always be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> main tumblr: canadiangothstalker  
> art tumblr: mirai-eats  
> twitter: mirai_eats


	6. 50... out of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my absolute FAVORITE one as of yet bc im a huge fucking romantic at heart

The podium was bathed in artificial candlelight, golden and bright in the wake of the setting beach sun. An alter swathed in ivory drapes and loaded with champagne colored roses and pale, green leaves and vines weighed the painstakingly hand-built frame. The sky was a rosy gold hue, the drenges of blue met the deep, blue sea of the horizon.

Upon the white sand beach sat an array of colorful guests; largely human, but plenty of aliens to fill up seats. A chalkboard sign sat at the end,  _ choose a seat, not a side! We’re all a family once the knot is tied! _ Handwritten by Lance sat at the entrance of the mini chapel set outside on the white sand beach just before twilight.

When the sun hit the horizon, faded white-gold molten in it’s dying embers, the ceremony began. The audience hushed itself, all eyes forward at the two groomsmen dressed in ivory and pale gold. The warm colors seemed to glow under the warm lanterns lining the aisle and filled the podium. 

A Catholic priest, insisted upon by both Lance and his mother due to their religious upbringings, was to officiate the weddings. Keith didn’t mind the religious aspect of the wedding, as long as he could finally legally call Lance his. 

The little green boutonniere pinned to their lapels, all pale, leafy greens and off white, twined in gold to clasp to their rental suits, kept catching Keith’s eye. The priest droned on, and he was listening, honestly, but it was mostly religious garbo that Keith could barely hang on to. It was nice, the boutonniere. He was glad they went with the off white and champagne with a little touch of green as their wedding colors instead of the motley clash of blue, red, and black to match their lions. No offense, but as nice as the sentiment was, even Keith admits that’s a pretty tacky. The champagne gold and off-white ivory felt clean and simple, but with enough pizzazz to satisfy Lance’s need for a little something extra. Extra with a capital E. 

Their rings, simple gold bands with the tiniest diamonds embedded in it, were slipped on their ring fingers with their vows. Lance started tearing up, a crystalline tear slipping from eyes that showed the barest hint of laugh lines.He can’t wait to see what other wrinkles he’ll get with time. Keith’s hands shook when Lance slipped the ring on his finger, the age showing in his knuckles. They weren’t old, but a lot of time has passed since they were launched into space in the Blue Lion years ago.

With the final words, echoed over their shivering onlookers- wracked with tears of joy- he announced them as husbands to all, to seal with a kiss. Keith didn’t hesitate to bring Lance’s wet face into his own for a deep, tender kiss, their lips tasting like salt from the sea and from their tears. 

He loved this man, this tall, blubbering, beautiful man with all of his golden heart, and they’re going to spend the rest of their lives together. The gold ring was already warm on his hand, warm on Lance’s cold cheeks from the cold ocean wind. Twilight had settled around them, and when their lips unsealed, the din of sound was finally registered in Keith’s ringing ears.

Everyone- team Voltron, their families, their friends, all their acquaintances and comrades made from the Garrison and flying through space- was cheering and applauding with all their hearts, hands clapped raw and red, but they weren’t going to stop. They threw champagne colored rose petals at them in fistfuls as they ran down the aisle, hand in hand. Children found the little champagne-shaped bubble bottles and were going ham and blowing as many, iridescent bubbles into the pink, heavenly sky, paintbrushes of lavender and blue like Lance’s eyes streaked from the east to wash away the faded gold and pink. 

Keith was so happy, so in love. Keith looked upon Lance and his watery, blue eyes and found him grinning ear to ear, just as happy as Keith felt. They kissed at the end of the aisle, ignoring the sand in their shoes (the guests must have it worse, sitting in the sand on white, fold out chairs), and was met with another round of raucous cheers. 

After pictures, cocktail hour, dinner, the toasts (that left Lance crying again), and dessert, Keith lead Lance out onto the golden lit dance floor, the ceiling just artfully draped fabric hung with dozens of fairy lights and paper lanterns that shifted in the gentle, sea breeze. He brought Lance close and was already sworn to never let go. Their first dance was a slow rendition of  _ Can’t Help Falling in Love _ , a homage to Lance’s own parents’ first dance. It was the softest, sweetest moment that left Keith’s already very tender heart melt under Lance’s warm hands and cool, blue gaze. 

More people of the party joined the dance; Lance’s parents, his brother and wife, Coran and one of Lance’s aunts (that Lance snorted at the sight of), Shiro and his husband, Matt and his wife. Allura came out on the second song, giggling into her hand and let Hunk sweep her away in a swoosh of her champagne-gold colored gown and starlight hair piled atop her head in an elegant swirl. Pidge danced with Beezer, a little bowtie clipped under where his face is supposed to be, her own champagne dress somehow worn not as elegant as Allura’s despite being the exact same one. A flash of muddy sneakers under the swirling fabric caught Keith’s eye. 

He pressed his cheek into Lance’s ivory shoulder, smelt the warm sweetness of his good cologne (the cologne he wore for special occasions, ie their first date, the night Lance asked him to marry him, Shiro’s wedding). Lance sighed into his hair, smelling the coconut of Keith’s shampoo (but actually Lance’s shampoo, Keith stopped buying shampoo years ago).

“Keith?” Lance said, voice barely heard over the sound of the next song. More people flooded the dance floor, bubbling and golden with filled stomachs and hearts.

“Hmm?” Keith said into Lance’s neck. He placed a tender kiss above the stark-white of Lance’s collar.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“You still have secrets, you blabbermouth?” Keith chuckled.

Lance stomped on Keith’s dress shoe. He laughed into Lance’s ear.

“I love you, Keith,” Lance said, so soft and full of love. It was a firm statement, that left no room to question.

Keith pulled back and placed a warm kiss on Lance’s lips. “I love you, too,” he whispered, heart so fond and soft, and oh so ready for their gilded future together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> main tumblr: canadiangothstalker  
> art tumblr: mirai-eats  
> twitter: mirai_eats


	7. 6... on a falling tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw anxiety attack, but lots of tender loving

It was a strange feeling, the stiffness in his chest and the overflowing feeling in his lungs. He didn’t know what to do with his quivering hands except will them to  _ stop shaking.  _ This rarely happened, but as of late it’s been happening more and more often. He couldn’t breath, an overwhelming fear would flood his blood and spill out of his pores like a thick miasma, putrid and absolutely terrifying. 

He’d felt it coming earlier. A strange nervousness tickled the recesses of his mind and he was able to ignore it mostly, but then the shaking and the anxiety settled in and he had to get away. He ran before the anxiety attack could grip his heart and squeeze his breath away in front of everyone. 

Fighting a space war, despite how  _ right  _ it felt being amongst the stars, feeling like this is where he belonged and this is what he had suffered for for so many years to be where fate lead him. . . he still suffered. His anxiety never went away, but took a backburner. He got overwhelmed so often, found himself scratching at his wrists to relieve the twitching in his fingers. So many times he would be at dinner, or training, or even just relaxing with the team when his heart would start to race and his breath would get stuck in his throat with a tacky glue. 

Today it was bad. The last planet they saved suffered so many losses, losses they could have prevented if they were only a smidge faster, a little stronger, a lot smarter. They won the battle, but at what cost?

The guilt ate at all of them. Allura was torn apart, a nervous, delicate wreck who snapped if one didn’t approach her with the tenderness of a lion trainer. Hunk and Pidge secluded themselves in the bowels of the castle, throwing themselves into their work with the steady aid of Coran, the only one who didn’t seem affected by the loss. This was nothing compared to his years. Shiro locked himself away, only emerging for meals and training. He was stoic, a hard casing over his exterior to shield them from what he truly felt

Lance, oh Lance. He tried. He did his absolute best to pull the team out of their misery. Lance tried to organize a family movie night, a game night, and a spa night. Each and every one flopped because no one but Hunk, Keith, and Coran showed up at most. Lance was beating himself up, behind the cracking visage he threw on in an attempt to lift the team back up was shuddering under the pressure of what had happened. There was blood on his hands, more blood than any of theirs, and no one blamed him for it except himself. 

Keith couldn’t have stopped it. Keith pulled the burden on himself, the guilt that wrought Lance heaving in his sleep, tears drying on his damp cheeks and limbs quivering with an overwhelming sadness. It was Keith’s fault Lance was like this, and he was waiting for the day Lance would confront him for ruining him.

Today, Keith dry heaved against the wall of a scarcely used hallway, heart racing as if he’d ran a marathon and tears pooling in his eyes when all he’s done was sit down to have a quite lunch with the team. He’d power walked out suddenly, heart pounding unnaturally fast and voice stuck to the roof of his mouth. 

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong. Lance hates him, Lance hates him,  _ Lance hates him.  _ He dropped to his knees, hands scratched at the worn denim of his pants. His nails were blunted, would never cause damage to his skin anymore, but his fingers burned under the pressure he put them under. He tried to focus, tried to figure out what his senses were feeling externally to pull him out of this heavy wave that drowned him. It was no use, the wave had already overcame him and pulled him down, down, down-

_ “Keith _ .” His name, muffled, reached his ears. The water broke for a moment for Lance’s blurred face to come into view. 

“Breath with me, Keith. In two, three, four. Hold two, three, four, five, six, seven.” Lance counted down slow, his voice a smooth honey that dripped over his skin. “Out two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” They repeated this a few times, Keith’s heart still pounded and his hands shook, but he wasn’t hyperventilating. His ragged breath copied Lance’s deep, even breath. Lance held his quivering hands in his own steady, warm ones. They counted the things he could hear, see, touch, smell, taste, calmly and slowly until he was somewhat calmed.

“How are you feeling, Keith?” Lance asked gently. Lance settled from a crouch into a relaxed criss cross, his thumb stroked gently along the leather of Keith’s gloves.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered. “I’m so sorry.” The tears came down fresh, hot and fast and he could do nothing to stop them. He threw His arms around Lance’s neck and sobbed, apologies bubbling from his lips and spilled down Lance’s back in a cascade of misery wrought with guilt and despair. Lance held him close, arms firm around his back and palms pressed flat.

“Keith, Keith,” Lance whispered. “It’s not your fault, it was never your fault. There was nothing any of us could have done to save them in time.” Lance turned his head and kissed Keith’s wet cheeks, pecked the freshly fallen tears away from his soaked eyes. 

“Why don’t you hate me?” Keith cried, his body shook with the sorrow that wracked through him. Lance was wounded beyond anything a healing pod can repair, and Keith couldn’t  _ help him. _

“I can’t ever hate you, I love you too much.” Lance nuzzled his face into the crook of Keith’s neck, warm breath tickled his numb skin. “You did everything you could, everyone did their best and I’m so proud. What happened to me was unfortunate, and I’ll get over it. But I will actually kick your ass if you continue to beat yourself up over this.”

“I love you, too.” Keith’s voice cracked. He pulled Lance closer, pulling himself into Lance’s lap. Lance placed another warm kiss on his drying cheek, the tears having stopped and left Keith to hiccup and sniffle into Lance’s collar. He turned his head and place his own kiss on Lance’s soft cheek. He felt him smile against his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments kudos and all that jazz is appreciated! get ready for tomorrow my good folks  
> main tumblr: canadiangothstalker  
> art tumblr: mirai-eats  
> twitter: mirai_eats


	8. 21... on a place of insecurity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> depressed lance, and keith loves him a lot

Even with the years out in space, fighting every day and training in between each battle with his neck on the front lines, close to being decapitated with one wrong move, Lance didn’t feel like a soldier. There was a blooming scar across his back from the first week in space, a slash next to his ear that dripped down his jaw to his neck. When he pulled back his hair there was a little starburst right next to his widow’s peak. A claw mark, three fingered and wide, tore through the soft skin of his thighs. There were slashes, spots, burns speckled across his arms and legs. A prominent chunk of flesh was missing from his left calf. 

These were the scars of a soldier. They spoke his story, cried the truth of what he’s been through. His already slim swimmer’s body had filled out; his broad shoulders were broader and trim waist was sturdier. His hands were bigger, rough despite how hard he tried to keep up with his skincare. He was a little bit taller, his jawline a little more filled out. 

Compared to Keith? This was nothing. They were subtle changes only his mother could notice. But Keith was obviously taller, broader, grizzled. His mullet had grown to a shaggy, lion’s mane, his shoulders were almost as sturdy as Shiro’s or Hunk’s. He had climbed past Lance in height and reached a few inches above his head, sending that measly inch he’d held above him into the ground. 

His ribs were still prominent, the collarbones sharp and hip bones jutted from the worn waistband of his pajama pants. His arms, despite having built up strength and were stronger than ever, still looked like noodles hanging at his sides. He prompt a scar on his belly, a starburst with a sharp slash through the middle, the area around it a off-tone color of his skin. 

He missed his smooth skin, missed his scrawny swimmer’s body. Missed the days he wasn’t wrought with nightmares and plagued with the feeling of  _ too much  _ flooding his lungs. On the worst days, he swears he could see blood stains on his hands. 

It was numb. The middle finger he pressed into the starburst with a slash, just a couple inches to the left of his belly button, wasn’t registered into his skin. He felt light, weighed down with too much blood and too much death, yet floated above himself. His skin didn’t register the ragged nail he dug into the skin and red crescent marks in its wake. He was stronger, faster, sharper; at the cost of what?

“What are you doing?” A sleepy voice was registered in Lance’s ringing ears. 

“Checking myself out,” Lance murmured, not really tasting the words in his mouth. Keith came up behind him. The bathroom tile on his heels and the rough mat under his soles was the only thing that kept Lance grounded in their cramped bathroom. The eerily bright light left him in a subspace that Keith, only Keith, gently grabbed his ankle floating away to tether him to the ground. 

Keith wrapped his pale, strong hands around Lance’s waist and leaned his head against Lance’s. He noticed the dull expression on Lance’s face and his jaw clenched, eyes hardened in a steely resolve. 

“What are you thinking about?” Keith asked, voice pitched low for only Lance’s ear to hear.

“This bullet wound. Remember? Shiro had to cut it out and caturize it because we were stranded in that red desert with the freaky looking trees.” Lance kept his eyes glued to the mark on his belly, eyes unfocused and not really taking it in.

Keith hummed in agreement. He remembered Lance’s screams. He laid his hands flat against Keith’s belly, fingers splayed with Lance’s pressed fingers settled between his pinky and ring finger. The stark contrast of Keith’s pale hands, knuckles splashed in even paler scars and fingers thick, strong, calloused, against Lance’s bronzed skin, muted by the starlight. He scraped against the smooth skin of Lance’s stomach. Lance inhaled raggedly, breath caught in his throat. His ribs pressed against his taunt skin when he filled his weak lungs with air and sharp shadows cast across Lance’s sternum. 

The bulk of Keith’s shoulders framed Lance’s, his arms were nearly twice as thick, his strong hips and muscular thighs could easily cover Lance’s. His butt was really cute, too. It used to be sort of flat, the waistband of his pants constantly slipped if he wasn’t paying attention. Keith presses his whole body into Lance’s back, hands rubbed up and down his front. It wasn’t sexual, really. It was Keith wanting to touch Lance’s baby soft skin, hold his weak body close. Lance felt like drowning. 

Keith placed gentle kisses in the junction of Lance’s neck and shoulder, long eyelashes fluttering shut and dry lips caressed his skin. The calloused hands trailed down his front and let his fingers idly trace the waistband of his cotton pants. A flash of fang scraped into bare skin. 

Lance finally worked up the energy to speak. “I’m tired, Keith.” His aching limbs, heavy eyes, pounding head, how he laid awake next to Keith every night until he watched the silvery light of the moon warm up through the blinds of their shared apartment. Keith would have an arm around his waist, his shaggy head presses into Lance’s back, a leg bumped into his. He was cocooned in Keith’s warmth, but he still shivered with a chill that pressed into his very bones. 

“We just got up. Want some coffee?” Keith suggested. His voice still thick with sleep. 

Lance shook his head. The caffeine would make the ache worse, the lack of food in him would trigger a caffeine rush that would leave his limbs shaking and speech slurred. He was already a wreck, there was no need to make it worse. 

“Want to take another nap?” Keith tried again. Lance shook his head. He couldn’t even think about laying back in bed to stare blankly as the off white ceiling. “What about calling out today and just bumming around the house? We can watch some movies, or that show you’ve been wanting to watch?”

Lance shrugged. Keith took it as a yes and tugged him out of the bathroom, away from his reflection and his troubles, to the living room couch. Lance let himself sink into the plush cushions, let Keith wrap a blanket around him and make him a cup of warm milk with honey and cinnamon to warm his chilled skin. He let Keith curl up next to him with a cup of coffee with way too much of that cinnamon vanilla creamer and sugar he was addicted to. Keith snuggled close and placed tender kisses across Lance’s sharp collar bones, the jutted ribs, the protruding hip bones. He traced his finger down the knobs of his spine, palms fluttered over the hard planes of his shoulder blades. Lance let him caress his whole body with the sweetest, softest kisses and spill his love out all over his numb skin. 

For a moment, Lance let himself sink into Keith’s touch on every part of him he hated. 


End file.
